My Brother's Keeper
by Eighth Row Pawn
Summary: Mycroft wasn't always so cold. There is one who holds the key to his heart.
1. My Brother's Keeper

"Come along, Mycroft, dear. Don't be shy," the weary, dark haired woman said softly, patting an empty space next to her on the hospital bed. Seven-year old Mycroft didn't need telling twice as he rushed forward to meet his new baby brother.

Hopping up on the edge of the bed, he placed his hands politely in his hands as he peered into his mother's arms and looked at the tiny little bundle. The infant was asleep, his small face relaxed and calm and a fuzzy layer of already thick dark hair coated his head.

"He's kind of funny looking," Mycroft said softly, trying to be quiet so as not to wake the new baby. "What's his name going to be?" he asked, glancing up to his mother who offered him a sweet smile.

"Sherlock. I like the sound of it, Sherlock Holmes," she replied as she gently stroked little Sherlock's cheek.

"He's so small, was I that small, mummy, when I was baby?" Mycroft asked and hesitently reached out to pet the child's small hand. He seemed so fragile, so delicate. Mycroft could hardly believe that after nearly nine months of waiting, he was finally getting to see the new baby brother he'd been waiting for. He'd always wanted a brother, someone he could play with. But this little creature was so small, he'd have to wait an awful long time before he was big enough to play with.

"Indeed you were, darling. A bit bigger than him, but still small. Sherlock here was born a bit early, you see. They're going to keep him overnight to make sure he's alright, but then he can come home," she replied before sitting up slightly and adjusting the baby in her arms. "Would you like to hold him, love?" she asked, and Mycroft nodded eagerly.

As his mother sat up and carefully extended her arms, Mycroft quickly mimiced the way she held her arms and took the offered baby into his own small arms, looking down at Sherlock as the baby came to rest in his care and his mother smiled and leaned back in the bed once more, watching her children with a loving gaze.

"You're a big brother now, Mycroft. He'll be looking up to you one day, looking to you for guidance and protection," she said softly, and Mycroft smiled as his heart swelled up with joy. How proud he felt, to be such an important person now. He thought of all the things he would teach Sherlock; how to read, how to ride a bike, how to throw a ball without breaking a window. Feeling a great burst of love and affection, Mycroft gently lowered his head and planted a tender kiss on Sherlock's forehead.

"I'll be the best big brother in the whole world," he promised.


	2. I Won't Let You Fall

"Come on, Sherlock. You can do it," Mycroft said as he sat on the sofa and looked over at his baby brother who sat quietly on the floor, a block in his hand as he looked up curiously upon hearing his name. Previously, Mycroft had been intent on trying to get Sherlock to walk when the youth had spotted his little brother trying earlier that week. He was excited to see his brother growing up, and wanted it to continue at a brisk pace.

The one year old Sherlock grumbled some sort of incoherent baby babble thoughtfully, looking back down at his block and contemplating it as Mycroft grumbled and got off the sofa, coming over to Sherlock's side. Pulling his little brother up to his feet, he held the child carefully, supporting him as Sherlock stood and fussed.

"No!" the child insisted, his lip trembling as he stood uncertainly on young feet that were not yet skilled in the art of walking. But Myrcoft held his hands and kept him upright.

"It's alright, Sherlock! I've got you, I won't let you fall," Mycroft promised, and though the one-year old Sherlock didn't understand what his brother was saying, the older Holmes sounded like he knew what he was doing, and so Sherlock calmed down a bit, taking comfort in the tone of his older brother's voice.

Stepping away from Sherlock ever so slightly, Mycroft kept his hands holding Sherlock, encouraging the child to follow. Though hesitant at first, Sherlock eventually took one step, then another, and froze. Looking up at his brother for confirmation, he gave a smile when Mycroft offered a grin.

"There you go, you see? It's not so hard," Mycroft encouraged, and repeated the motion of stepping away. Sherlock followed again, this time giggling as he managed a couple more steps and babbled up at Mycroft.

"Mycoft!" he exclaimed, his somewhat clumsy pronunciation of his brother's name spoken in excitement at this new action. He was a quiet and serious child, but seemed to show a certain passion for things he was interested in.

Wondering if his little brother would be able to manage on his own, Mycroft released Sherlock's hands and stepped away, and for a moment Sherlock managed to keep his feet. But then he wobbled slightly, attempted a step, and then lost his balance and fell backwards onto his bottom.

For a moment he sat there in shock, then his small face wrinkled up and Mycroft instantly moved to his baby brother's side as Sherlock began to cry.

"Oh, Sherlock! Please don't cry, I'm sorry," Mycroft pleaded and wrapped his arms around Sherlock, pulling the infant into a hug. Sherlock didn't seem in pain, but more just startled as he cried quietly and pushed Mycroft away at first.

"No!" he insisted again, but Mycroft tried again and this time Sherlock allowed his older brother to comfort him and he sniffled and stuck his thumb in his mouth, sucking in it. A habit that Mycroft ofttimes tried to prevent Sherlock from doing, but guilt made him allow it to pass this time and he cuddled with his brother.

"It's okay, Sherlock. You'll learn to walk eventually. Someday you'll be bigger and we can finally have fun together," he said, gently patting Sherlock dark hair as he sat on the floor with Sherlock.


End file.
